


3 Times Sherlock Needs a Piss, and 1 Time John's the Desperate One

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Masturbation, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John loves when Sherlock holds it for him. Seeing him desperate and squirming turns him on like nothing else. Sherlock enjoys it as well, and he ends up asking John to do the holding  sometime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd/brit-picked
> 
> Contains watersports, so you know the drill, if it squicks you out, don't look.

The first time was an accident. Sherlock had been finishing an experiment but John had become a distraction. John was unzipping Sherlock's trousers and settling between his legs when Sherlock noticed he had been ignoring his bladder for far too long.

 

“John, wait. I need to piss.” Saying this, he saw arousal flash in John's eyes.

“Hold it.” Sherlock flushed red at this. John placed his hand on Sherlock's bladder, barely pressing.

“You're full, huh? You have to go so bad, you're absolutely bursting.” John pulled Sherlock's cock from his pants, stroking him to hardness. 

“Mmm, please John, I need- oh god,” Sherlock shuddered as John engulfed his cock in his hot, wet mouth. John felt the man's shaft twitch in his mouth as he moaned around it.

 

“You get off on it, don't you? Me needing a piss?” Sherlock questioned. He felt a wave a pressure from his bladder, but he was too hard to even attempt to empty it now.   
John took his mouth off his cock with an audible 'pop', and answered.

“God yes. You, the normally perfectly composed detective, losing control, squirming, begging to let go. Gorgeous.” He flicked his tongue at the head of Sherlock's cock, eliciting a groan from the man.

John assaulted Sherlock's cock with his tongue, lapping at his slit. He knew Sherlock was close, so very close. He felt Sherlock grip his hair in warning, and he sucked roughly at the head as Sherlock came with a shout. Swallowing, John then lapped at his softening cock, cleaning it.

 

“John, I need to piss now!” Sherlock whimpered. John smirked and placed his hand on Sherlock's bladder.

“Do you? I think you can hold it a little bit longer,” John teased, putting some pressure on Sherlock's torso. Sherlock wriggled in his seat, unable to get up with John trapping him in place.

“Please, John I- oh shit, please,” Sherlock's thighs jammed tightly together, and he snaked a hand down to grip his desperate penis. John watched, awed, as a bit of pee dribbled out of his partner, dripping onto his clothed leg. Sherlock held onto himself tighter, shaking.

 

“God, Sherlock, how long do you think you can hold it?” John whispered, palming his hard cock through his jeans. He unzipped himself, and pulled his erection out of his pants. 

“I can't hold it John, I need to go, please, let me piss- ooo” Sherlock begged, shuddering as another wave of desperation washed over him. He was gripping himself so tightly, it hurt, but another spurt escaped his bladder, wetting his shirt.

“God, look at you, keep begging for it, love” John stroked himself, foreskin deftly sliding over the head. He couldn't believe it. He knew he had a bit of a piss kink, but he never knew it would be like this. John stood, aiming his cock at Sherlock's, and came, come spurting onto his damp shirt.

 

Recovering, John grabbed an empty bottle from beside the sink. Kneeling, he loosened Sherlock's hands from his dick, gasping when piss started to dribble out without a hand to stop it. John grasped Sherlock's penis and aimed it into the bottle.

“Relax, Sherlock, you can go,” he comforted, and Sherlock sighed in relief as he emptied himself, spurts and drips changing into a steady stream. 

“John, oh god, that felt amazing,” Sherlock moaned while pissing, “coming with a full bladder is much more intense.” His bladder finally empty, he slouched in the chair, worn out.

 

“Hey, lets get you cleaned up,” John insisted a few minutes later. Sherlock frowned.  
“I'm too tired, leave me here,” he complained. John sighed, and gripped Sherlock by the arm, dragging him to the bathroom.

“I won't have you falling asleep with dried piss and come on you. Hop in the shower, now, please.” John turned the water on, and stripped Sherlock from his messy clothing. Steam filled the small room, fogging the mirror, and Sherlock complied, stepping into the warmth.

“John, join me?” he asked, head poking out from behind the curtain.

“Not today, I need to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Clean yourself up nicely, no whining.”

Sherlock huffed and began to scrub himself.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock plans another foray into desperation play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this chapter! Thanks to every who's left kudos so far! I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Feel free to comment!

It was a few days after the first 'incident' and they hadn't spoken about it. John wasn't exactly avoiding the subject, but he felt a little guilty. He had kind of forced his kink onto Sherlock, and while Sherlock wasn't upset, John still felt bad about it. Though he was sure if Sherlock hadn't wanted it, he would have stopped John right away. And he did say his orgasm was more intense. 

 

Sherlock was planning another foray into the whole pee thing. He had enjoyed it when John told him to hold it, and John obviously loved it. He wanted to surprise John, and he knew just how to do it.

 

Sherlock had just solved a case. Easy, really, utterly simple. He knew from the start that the cook was the one who poisoned the gardener, being jealous of his relationship with the maid. The only reason he had to go out was to help Lestrade gather clues, something which the whole police force was apparently incompetent at. Or Lestrade just wanted to get him back for insulting him the last time.

“Sherlock? I asked if you were hungry, get out of your head and back onto Earth, please.” John complained.

“Sorry, ah, let's go to Angelo's then.” Sherlock replied, and went to flag a cab down. 

 

When they arrived Sherlock immediately downed a glass of water. Then another. He saw John staring at him.

“A bit thirsty?” John asked. Sherlock smirked and started on his third, more slowly.

“I have something planned for you, I think you'll enjoy it.” he hinted. He watched as the confusion on John's face changed to a knowing arousal. 

“Good. I, ah, was a bit worried. I did ambush you last time, I thought you might be... upset.”

“John, I truly enjoyed it. Don't waste time worrying about it. Just eat something, you'll be needed your energy.” Just then the waiter came by and took their orders.

 

 

They ate and Sherlock drank a bit more water. Walking outside, he could feel his bladder swelling. It was only mildly uncomfortable at the moment, but considering just how much water he had consumed, he knew it would get very bad very soon. Which would be very good for his plan.

He hailed a cab, knowing there would be no way he would make it home without pissing himself if they walked. John told the driver their address, and Sherlock got in, trying not to jostle his bladder. Yes, it was happening quicker than he had thought. He squirmed and pressed his thighs together, glancing at John. John was staring back at him, eyes dilated. 

“How bad do you have to go?” John asked, his voice husky. Sherlock shifted and bit his lip.

“It's... bad. Happening much faster than I thought it would. John, I don't know if I can make it home.” he said, placing a hand into his groin. 

“Shh... just hold on. We'll be home soon.” John could feel himself growing hard, watching Sherlock struggle to hold it.

 

 

The cab pulled up in front of 221B and John paid the driver as Sherlock hobbled towards the door. John quickly followed, keys in hand. 

“John, hurry!” Sherlock bent at the waist as a spasm wracked his body. John hastily unlocked the door and they made their way into the flat. Glancing at Sherlock's trousers, John saw a small wet spot, proof that Sherlock was about to lose control.

“Let's go to the bathroom,” John said, “It'll make clean up easier.” He led the way, and watched as Sherlock struggled to walk normally to the loo. 

 

 

“Take off your clothes and get into the tub,”John commanded. Sherlock obeyed quickly. John studying the pale body in front of him. He watched as Sherlock's legs quivered in desperation, and his hands flew to his crotch.

“No touching yourself. Hands off.” John ordered. He smirked as Sherlock reluctantly moved his hands to his sides, fingers clenched.

“Please John, I need to go.” Sherlock begged. He crossed his legs awkwardly and bent a bit at the knees.

“Describe how badly you need to go, then maybe I'll let you.”

“It's- ooh- really bad, it hurts. I've already leaked some, please, John. I'm going to burst, please!” He moaned.

 

 

John knelt outside the tub and stared hard at Sherlock's cock. He watched it quiver and bob with desperation. 

“I don't know if you have to go bad enough yet, Sherlock.”

“John! I-ah! Please let me go!” Sherlock cried out. He gripped his cock tightly, trying to hold back.

“I told you not to touch yourself.” John scolded. He removed Sherlock's hand gently.

“Oh god, I can't hold it anymore John!” His knees buckled and he slid to the floor of the tub. 

John watched as Sherlock lost his control. He shuddered as a dribble came out and splashed at his thighs. The dribble soon turned into spurts, then a steady stream. The room was silent except for the hissing of Sherlock's piss and their combined heavy breathing. John stared as the pee left Sherlock's cock, spraying onto the wall of the tub.

John opened his trousers and stroked himself. He listened as Sherlock whimpered, piss still pouring out of his bladder. 

 

“John, let me help you with that,” Sherlock said, finally empty. His piss-damp hand wrapped around John and caressed his cock. Speeding up, he began stroking in earnest and John started pumping his hips in Sherlock's grip.

 

“Oh, god, Sherlock, watching you lose control like that, so sexy. Ah!” He came with a shout.

Sherlock smirked and met John's eyes as he licked the come off his hand.

“Mmm, John, don't you taste nice. Next time I want to take you in my mouth.” John undressed himself, and stepped into the tub, turning the shower on.

“You'd better. Your mouth was made for that. And you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” John teased, beginning to scrub Sherlock's arse.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally asks Sherlock to wet his pants for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a little while, but I have finished the new chapter! Feel free to comment!

John wanted more. He wanted to watch Sherlock absolutely drench himself. The previous times Sherlock had been nude, or at least had his cock out of his trousers. John wanted to watch him lose all of his control while he wore his lovely, high-quality clothes. To see him wet himself in his nice trousers, the piss streaking down his legs, oh god. 

He was laying in their shared bed, and he felt himself harden as he thought of Sherlock. Sherlock was sleeping, for once, and John didn't want to wake him. He slipped his hand into his pajama bottoms and slid his fingers through his pubic hair gently. He wanted to take his time with this.

Snaking his hand farther down, he wrapped his calloused hand around himself, stroking slowly a few times before reaching down to massage his balls, caressing one, then the other. Moving up again, he slipped a finger underneath his foreskin, swiping it over his head and feeling the wetness of his pre-come. His other hand flew to his mouth and he bit down to stifle his moan. He eyed Sherlock's sleeping form, afraid he might wake him.

He moved his hand above the covers, spitting on it to get lubrication. Gripping himself he began to pump his hips into his hand. He imagined Sherlock, how amazing he would look losing control. Him begging for release, pee spurting out without permission. John bit his lip, drawing blood. He thought of sucking Sherlock while he was desperate. Him squirting into his mouth, his piss enveloping his mouth, his flavor overcoming his taste-buds. 

John couldn't help himself. He began to groan loudly behind his hand. His cock was so hard, he was leaking pre-come like a faucet. Thinking about Sherlock wanting to let himself go so badly, and John not letting him! John moved his hand from his mouth and used it to stroke his huge cock. He shifted so that the duvet was no longer covering him, and he bit his tongue as he came.

Recovering, John noticed Sherlock had awoken. He guessed he really had been a bit too loud. John flushed red, aware of the show he had just put on. 

“Couldn't wait for me to wake up?” Sherlock smirked. John felt entirely caught. 

“Ah... just how long have you been awake?” he awkwardly asked. 

“Long enough to see you pleasuring yourself, I pretended to be asleep after your noises awoke me. I didn't want to interrupt. You look marvelous like that, you know. I like watching you very much.”

“Thanks? I was thinking of you, ah, wetting yourself. I was hoping you wouldn't mind doing that for me. Sherlock?” John was worried that this might be too much for Sherlock, or that he wouldn't want to ruin his clothing. He gnawed on his lip, awaiting an answer.

“You mean, while dressed, correct?” John nodded. “Well I can't say I haven't thought about that. I will try it, if it's what you'd like.” Sherlock swiped his tongue over his lip. He had actually done quite a bit of thinking about it, more than he let on. But not letting John know was part of the game. If John knew just how much he would enjoy it, John wouldn't be able to get off on the humiliation aspect. Sherlock always acted for John's sake.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” he said sincerely. He began thinking of all sorts of different situations he could put Sherlock in.

Sherlock got out of bed and dressed himself in comfortable jeans. He didn't want to wet in anything that needed dry-cleaning. It wasn't something he really wanted to explain. He was brushing his teeth when John joined him in the bathroom.

“Have you made plans for how you'll have me?”

“Huh? Oh, sort of, I don't have it all figured out yet. I can assure you it will be happening today.”

John knew that Sherlock very much enjoyed all the pee play they've done so far, which pleased him. He filled a glass of water and handed it to Sherlock.

“Starting already?” John just raised his eyebrow until Sherlock drank down the glass. They smirked at each other and Sherlock refilled the glass himself.

Two hours and several glasses and cups of tea later, John asked Sherlock if he would play his violin for him. Sherlock was squirming a bit, but nodded at his request. Standing up from his chair made his need much worse, and he pressed his hand into his groin to quiet his bladder. He picked up his violin.

“Any requests, John?” 

“Whatever you like, Sherlock” He grinned from the sofa, watching Sherlock press his legs together before playing.

Sherlock did try to concentrate on his instrument, but after a few minutes it became impossible to focus on anything except how badly he needed to relieve himself.

Soon, he was making mistakes in the song he was playing, and John noticed. Sherlock kept attempting to play, but what did come out of the violin no longer resembled a song. He dropped the bow and violin and doubled over, hands desperately squeezing his cock through his jeans.

“John!” He gasped, thighs trapping his hands into place. He was afraid to let go. John's face was beginning to flush with arousal, and he had a tell-tale bulge in his trousers.

“Let's go in the kitchen, I don't want the rug to get wet.” John said, standing up. Sherlock followed carefully, trying not to aggravate his bladder with the movement. Sherlock leaned against the table, careful not to disturb any of his ongoing experiments. He was caught completely off guard when John pressed on his bladder. He quickly grabbed himself, but the sudden pressure made him begin to leak.

“What the hell?” Sherlock yelled. He was answered with a smirk.

“I can't wait to see you piss yourself.” John murmured seductively into Sherlock's ear, his hand coming back to rest against his stomach. Sherlock was squirming with the desperation, his body sending him warning signals. 

He held his breath as John jabbed at his bladder again. Even though he knew it was coming, he wasn't completely prepared. He quickly crossed his legs to stave off the pressure and moaned in discomfort. He moved to hold himself again, but John grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Please, John!” He complained. Without the help his hand would give, this would be over very quickly. 

“Hey, no holding yourself.” John scolded, as he began to rub himself against Sherlock's leg. Sherlock let out a low whine but ultimately obeyed John.

John pressed Sherlock's bladder again, which surprised Sherlock, as he let out a yelp and felt the warmth flow down his leg. Oh god, he was going to lose control at any moment. He knew it would happen very soon. He could barely stop himself this time, but by crossing his legs tightly he was able to stem the flow.

Sherlock let out a cry as John began to massage his stomach, pressing firmly. John shushed him, still grinding against his leg. He really had to concentrate now, otherwise he knew he'd lose control.

“Sherlock, go on, piss yourself,” John urged. Sherlock shuddered. It was happening. His body shook as he relaxed his muscles. Moaning, he felt his hot piss rush down his legs, forming a puddle on the floor. John pulled himself out of his pants and began to rub himself off, groaning loudly. 

Almost a minute later, Sherlock couldn't believe he was still peeing. He felt his bladder deflating. His trousers completely soaked. John aimed his cock at Sherlock's pants and came with a shout. 

“Christ, you're still going?” John asked. Sherlock just nodded, body exhausted from the struggle. His bladder finally empty, he sank to the floor, sitting directly in his puddle.

“Come on, it's into the tub for you,” John stated a couple minutes later, giving Sherlock time to regain some strength. He pulled him to his feet and striped him of his wet clothing.

In the bathroom, Sherlock lazed in the tub, cock hardening as he replayed the events in his mind. John had gone back to the kitchen to clean up after him. Thinking of John's reaction to his wetting, Sherlock stroked himself lazily. He quickly brought himself to orgasm when he began to think of something new.

He had decided. He wanted to see John wetting himself,or even just desperate. He'd breach the subject soon. He just had to come up with an approach.


End file.
